God Stole the Handle
by p.r. fox
Summary: Dean will always save the ones he loves, and if one of them just so happens to be the new God...well, he's saved plenty of weirdos before. COMPLETE. Set directly after the S6 finale.


Of all the stupid, risky shit Dean Winchester has pulled, saying no to Castiel is probably the stupidest and riskiest.

Crowley's lab is filthy and reeks of iron (thanks to the bloody mess Castiel made of Raphael and his vessel) and something else, something coming from Castiel. It smells like rain on concrete, like electricity sparking in angry, broiling thunderclouds (_Petrichor,_ Sam would tell Dean a few days after that, _that's the word for that rainy smell_) and it's heavy, threatening, making Dean's hair stand on end. The air is practically crackling when Castiel says, "So you will bow down and profess your love unto me, your Lord, or I shall destroy you," and Dean Winchester—of _course_ it would be Dean Winchester—says _no._

Castiel's head tilts just barely, with that strange expression that isn't quite a smile but doesn't leave his face blank, rather like a bird, and Dean repeats himself. "No."

He feels Bobby and Sam looking at him, feels Bobby's eyes on the back of his neck and Sam's panicked gaze on his face.

Castiel's eyes are locked on Dean's, cold and even, and he says serenely, "I don't think you fully understand the magnitude of your situation, Dean."

"Oh, I understand perfectly," Dean says, and he feels a little smile twisting his lips without meaning to, and his feet bring him closer to Castiel of their own volition, and he knows he's doing it again, doing that _I ain't got a care in the world_ thing he does when he's this close to shitting himself, and he can't help it. "I get what you're saying, 100 percent. But you won't do it, Cas. You won't destroy us."

Even though he really does believe that, he still braces himself nervously when Castiel calmly raises his fingers.

"Whoa, whoa, don't go snapping those, hear me out! Jesus!" His eyes are wide and locked on the floor, his hands spread wide as if waiting for the ground to give out beneath him and he needs to catch himself on something. When he chances a look up at Castiel, Castiel is slowly lowering his hand.

Dean relaxes marginally and raises his head again to look Castiel squarely in the face. "You want us to 'profess our love unto you'? Fine. Castiel, I love you."

"Do you." It's not a question, and Castiel's voice is so flat it could be hilarious if the situation wasn't fucking terrifying.

"Of course I do, Cas, you _know_ that!" Dean says, exasperation coloring his voice. "Are you stupid or something? I wasn't kidding when I said we're family. You might not think so anymore, but you did once, and we are. So you listen to me," he edges daringly closer, figuring they're fucked whether they survive or not, until he's invading Castiel's personal space the way Cas always did to him, "and you listen good. I'm not digging this whole 'a god am I' idea you've taken on, but I know that's not you talking. All right? That's every damn soul in fuckin' _Purgatory_ scrambling your head. A little angel of Thursday and millions of fucked-up souls crammed in one vessel?"

Dean can't help but grin and he reaches out, surprising himself, to fiddle with the lapel of Castiel's trench coat, the same thing he's worn since they first met. "Gotta say, I'm impressed with Jimmy for keeping all of you inside, but let's face it, Cas, we both know most of the _real_ Cas has probably gotten his scrawny ass shunted to the side to make room for all those souls."

"Dean…" Sam's voice is shaky, though whether that's because he's just had the wall in his head broken down or if it's because of Dean's hazardous behavior, Dean doesn't know. Dean's heart is galloping at a hundred miles an hour, Castiel's power is weighting down on him, and Dean is very, very frightened because Castiel's eyes are practically burning holes in his skin (Dean is half convinced that if he wasn't averting his gaze he'd explode on the spot), but Dean is also very, very much a madman, so he straightens Castiel's collar fondly, like he would Sam.

"So yeah, Cas, I love you. I profess it unto you." Dean rolls his eyes. "So do Sam and Bobby. But not as our Lord. And we're definitely not getting on our knees for you. I mean, gross, _all_ of us?" He claps Castiel on the shoulder and grins, his gaze fixed firmly on his nose instead of those powerful eyes. "We love you, dude. We're gonna fix you."

"There is nothing broken," Castiel says coldly.

"Yeah, whatever." Dean gives Castiel's shoulder a friendly shake, and he takes a step back, beckoning discreetly at Sam behind Cas. Dean prays his knees don't give out, because Castiel's expression is something close to furious, but in a weird sort of _blank_ way.

And that is fucking scary.

"You're not gonna destroy us," Dean says smoothly, hoping his voice isn't as tremorous as he feels, taking a few more casual steps back, grasping at Bobby's sleeve as Sam carefully circles around to them. "One outta two ain't bad, Cas. Take what you can get."

They've given up on being discreet; it's obvious that they're grouped together and backing away. Slowly but surely, they make their way closer to the exit, backing away from Castiel and his icy stare as if he were a venomous snake they'd nearly trod upon. He observes them stonily, still as a statue, as they distance themselves from him.

He has the power to destroy them. He doesn't do it.

At the top of the stairs, Dean hurries Bobby and Sam through the doorway before him, and Castiel speaks.

"I _will_ destroy you, Dean."

And suddenly Dean feels so, so tired; he feels so, so _old_. He nods, thinking maybe Castiel already has, and looks down at Castiel, rooted to the spot in the center of Crowley's lab and staring right back up at him.

"'S all right, Cas," he says in a voice that's strangely gentle and soothing, and knows he's speaking to the part of Castiel locked away behind the souls, the part of him that believes in free will and cheesburgers and picking your own destiny, the one he knows is screaming from the depths of Jimmy's body and is finally, _finally_ all too aware of the mistake he's made.

Dean will save him. Just as he always saves his brother, he will always save his angel.

* * *

><p><strong>If things don't end well for Castiel and the Winchesters, I shall never be happy again.<strong>


End file.
